your works.  Fiat pax in virtute tua is a prayer in the service of the Mass, which I repeat to you from the bottom of my heart.  The information which I received as to the security of your stay at Venice was not of a kind to make me think your domicile there, even for a short time, an advisable thing.  Even now I entertain some doubts, which, however, I hope will prove futile.  It is a great pity that we cannot live together, and I long unspeakably for the day when this will be possible.  Lately, again, I spoke to the Grand Duke about your situation, and conjured him to set everything in motion in order to open your return to Germany.  He promised that he would do so.  The remarks in my last letter in reference to the performances of your works in the French or Italian language you seem to have misunderstood.  By several things which you had previously written to me, and by your last journey to Paris, this possibility was suggested to me for discussion, and my only intention was, of course, to explain my view of the matter to you, without in the least wishing to prejudice you.  The Queen of England had told you that an Italian performance of your works would be desirable; of Roger’s “Tannhauser” we had spoken several times, and you had also come to an understanding with Ollivier as to the droits d’auteur.  My expectations of all this are small, and I cannot agree with others of your friends as to the opportuneness and desirability of performances in a foreign language; indeed I should think it more advisable not to attach any importance to them for the present, and to make no attempt in that direction.  But you must not charge me with having evolved the whole matter from my imagination.  In the worst case, my view would simply be an erroneous one, but you should not misunderstand or disapprove of my intention of saving you unnecessary trouble.  You have struck your roots entirely in German soil; you are, and remain, the glory and splendour of German art.  While theatrical affairs abroad are in their present condition, while Meyerbeer and Verdi reign supreme, while theatrical managers, singers, conductors, newspapers, and the public are under their immediate influence, there is no need for you to mix yourself up with this muddle.

Another point in your letter, dearest Richard, has almost hurt me, although I can well understand that you think the official impediments which prevented my journey to Zurich trivial, and that you fail to give due importance to the University Jubilee of Jena, and to the many considerations which I have to observe, were it only in order to be occasionally useful to you in small matters.  In a calmer mood you will easily understand that I cannot and dare not leave Weymar at every moment, and you will surely feel that the delay of my journey to Zurich was caused by no kind of triviality.  When I wrote to you that I should be with you on August 20th, I made no doubt that even in case of your earlier departure from Zurich you would appoint another place, Lucerne or Geneva, for a meeting.  As you failed to do so, I came to a conclusion which I am only too happy to abandon on your word.